I'll Meet You Here With Words on my Skin and Love in my Heart
by A Nerdy Kat
Summary: Throwing my hat in the ring for Soulmate Shorts. Concept borrowed from amusewithaview's Soulmates AU and ozhawk's Soulmate Shorts
1. Against the Cold and Friendless Tide

Skye sipped her cocktail as she looked around the room. Being undercover really wasn't so hard, especially with a job as boring as Level 2 support for HYDRA. It was amazing to her the technical incompetence of the general population, even those who were members of secret, evil organizations.

After SHIELD fell, Coulson had needed someone to go undercover in HYDRA. He was going to send Jemma, but Skye pointed out that her contacts at the Rising Tide gave her a better shot at not getting caught. Apart from the fact that she could actually lie, it was an easier sell for her to pull off that she was amoral and would work for the highest bidder (mostly because she _was_ amoral and most hackers _would_ work for the highest bidder).

It wasn't like she was a massive SHIELD cheerleader to begin with. She had worked towards freedom of information for nearly a decade, and SHIELD had been the cause of a shockingly bad childhood. Sure they had kept her safe, but it had led to a totally sucky childhood. Plus getting shot in the stomach twice hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. HYDRA had no trouble believing her story.

"Skye?" the voice pulled her out of her traitorous thoughts and she looked up to Brody, one of the other Level 2 supervisors, standing in front of her and chewing his lip.

"What's up, Brody?" she asked.

"Whitehall broke his computer again," Brody said with an eyeroll. "Could you do me a solid and go up first thing tomorrow morning? Probably just needs a restart, but he insists that a manager come by."

Skye nodded. "Tired of going up there after, what was it, six times today?" she asked with a smirk.

"Try seven," Brody said. "Serves me right for giving him my personal cell."

"I tried to warn you," Skye said. "Don't worry, I'll cover for you tomorrow." She turned back to her drink, smiling to herself as she took another sip. No one ever looked at the IT people in an organization and it gave her an all-access pass to all kinds of information.

Taking another sip, Skye felt all her worries about getting caught and Fitz and Ward and everything going on in her life slipping away. Everything felt good. Something niggled at the back of her mind, poking at her that something was wrong, but she paid it no mind, taking another sip. She was enjoying the night. Her coworkers respected her. She felt free and… she tilted sideways into a solid wall of flesh.

"Hey, are you okay?" came a concerned voice.

Skye giggled. "I'm awesome, possum!" she giggled again, then realized something. "Hey! You said my ssssoulwords," she said, frowning slightly. She was having trouble forming words. The muscles around her stiffened.

"How many drinks have you had?" the solid wall of flesh asked. She looked up. He was so _tall_ and had such a handsome face. She reached up and touched his shoulder. He was strong.

Skye giggled again. "Jussst got here silly. Just started my drink!" She held up her index finger, looked at it and noticed that she had two fingers up, then corrected herself, giggling again.

A second solid wall of flesh reached from behind her and put a little stick in her drink. It beeped and her soulmate cursed. "GHB, Jack. Someone dosed her."

Skye swayed and her soulmate caught her. Skye giggled again at the feeling of swinging. "Damn," came a response from someone behind him. "There's no way to figure out who in this crowd."

"Grab the security feeds? We can figure something out later. They're HYDRA at least. They won't get far," her soulmate said. He turned to her. "I'm Brock, hon. Do you know your name?"

"Skye?" Skye said distantly. "I think? Yeah, I'm Skye."

"Come on, hon. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" Brock said.

"Okay," Skye repeated, allowing herself to be led out of the bar. That small, nagging feeling told that she didn't know this guy. She didn't know for sure they were soulmates. The feeling told her that she shouldn't be letting him do this, but she was just so damn happy that she let him.

Skye lost track of the hallways she was being led down until a wave of nausea hit and she heaved. With reflexes fast enough to make her feel even dizzier than she already was, Brock grabbed a trash can from somewhere, just in time to catch a truly impressive amount of vomit. She groaned and felt her knees give out, but a strong arm caught her before she toppled to the floor. Another arm hooked under her knees and lifted her easily.

"Strong," Skye said with a weak smile. "Good. Let's go have shower sex."

Laughter vibrated from the broad chest that she was curled against. "Not that I don't see the logic in that, hon, but the only place you're going is the medical wing."

"No needles," Skye argued. "They suck. Don't wanna go."

"You will," Brock said in a far different voice than before. Skye scrunched up her face. "I know they suck, but it's important."

"What happened?" someone else asked, sounding bored. A woman.

"Someone dosed her with GHB twelve minutes ago," Brock said. He laid her on a soft bed. Skye reached out and grabbed his hand. Her soulmate. She had a soulmate… maybe more than one? She didn't really remember.

"Jesus," the woman cursed. "They probably gave her too much. I need you to move out of this area."

"I'm her soulmate," Brock said. "I'm staying."

The woman sighed. "Fine, just try to stay out of our way," she conceded. "Hey, I need a heart monitor and some activated charcoal over here!"

Someone was shining a bright light in her eyes and it hurt. She whimpered. Brock was rubbing the back of her hand. Someone else was shoving something down her throat and suddenly, all she could feel was a freezing cold and a all-too-familiar pain in her stomach. She felt the blood as it covered her stomach. She had to get out of there. People were shouting as she tried to pull the tube out. She didn't want it. She didn't want it. People, then some kind of fabric, were holding her hands down. She was going to die. Again.

"Someone go get the droperidol!" someone shouted.

"Got it!" Voices were starting to blend together. She could feel Brock clutching her hand and she clung back as hard as she could. And then there was a pinch and the world slowed down.

"Ok, she's back with us. Keep an eye on that heart monitor for bradycardia and make sure she doesn't go into respiratory arrest."

She blinked and saw Brock, looking terrified as he looked down at her. There was something wet on her cheek as Brock got as close as he could. "I'll find out who did this," Brock promised. "I'll find them and then I'll kill them."

She flinched as someone inserted a needle into the hand that Brock didn't occupy. She tried to object but there was a tube in her throat and all that came out were moans. All of a sudden she was tired. Her eyes closed. Nothing anyone was saying was making any sense. The only thing that did was that her soulmate was there, and he didn't seem to want to go anywhere. She clung desperately to his hand, the only stable anchor she had as the world swirled around her and faded to black.

When she opened her eyes, she got up, not knowing where she was, and immediately regretted her decision. If felt like she had the worst hangover of her life on top of being hit by a truck. Her stomach rolled and she closed her eyes again, swaying where she stood.

"Hey, hon. Lay back down, okay?"

Strong hands led her forcefully but not violently back to where she'd been lying down. In fact, there was tenderness to his touch as he stroked her hair. "What happened?" she asked she squinted and saw that the lights had been turned down and a dark-haired man was sitting in a chair next to her. She knew that face. Everyone in all of creation knew that face. The man fighting Captain America. But Coulson had said that all reports indicated that he was dead. People had still talked about him. Brock Rumlow: former STRIKE commander, extremely high combat marks, and all-around ruthless bastard.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

She was dead. She was _so_ dead. She tried to think back, realizing there was a huge chunk of time missing and trying not to panic about it. "Ummm. I was in the computer lab, working on a hard drive repair," she said quietly. Her voice was hoarse and she coughed. Rumlow was immediately on his feet, raising her bed - her hospital bed? He poured her a glass of water and helped her take a couple sips. She gagged. Everything tasted like charcoal.

"Look, I don't want you to be scared so I'm going to warn you before saying this. You went to the bar last night and someone dosed you with GHB. Then you immediately ran into me. He lifted his shirt and Skye's eyes went wide as she saw words, in her handwriting, across his abs. _I'm awesome possum! Hey! You said my soul words!_

"Holy shit!" she breathed. This was not good. This was not good at all. "You're Rumlow," she said. "You're Brock Rumlow."

Brock tenderly tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. "You're my soulmate. You get to call me Brock," he said. "Can I call you Skye?"

Skye nodded mutely. He couldn't be totally evil. Anything could have happened last night, but she was pretty sure nothing had. She certainly wasn't sore in all the wrong places.

"What are you thinking about, Skye?" Brock asked her.

She frowned, considering her answer. "You didn't… I thought… you brought me here? Why?"

Brock looked furious for an instant at the implication. "I wouldn't," he growled. "I would never, understand me?"

Skye looked down, "Yes," she said softly.

"I know I have a reputation for ruthlessness, but there are some things that are too despicable - no one should _ever_ do something like that." Skye flinched, remembering Ward. "I would have helped you out even if you weren't my soulmate," Brock said. He stroked her cheek tenderly and Skye found herself leaning into the touch without meaning to. "My team and I, we're going to figure out who did this to you. No one messes with my soulmate and gets away with it."

Skye stared at him wide-eyed. Somehow, easily the most ruthless man on Earth had been utterly successful in both soothing her and making her feel safer than she had ever felt. She didn't trust the system, but maybe, just maybe, she could trust her soulmate. At least until she could get herself out of HYDRA.


	2. Aliens!

Aliens. Aliens had attacked New York and left half the city in shambles. It was like an episode of Doctor Who except the aliens didn't leave after a few words from a strange man who sounded like he was from Britain. Instead, SHIELD had piles of rubble to sort through and clean up in a matter of two days. Most of the SHIELD had been assigned to help clear any alien tech that was in the rubble. The job was to get in and out without a whole lot of questions being answered by the general public. Fitz was assigned by Doctor Weaver to be one of the engineers to clear alien debris within Stark Tower under the watchful eyes of Agent Maria Hill.

He had actually been assigned to the top floor of the tower, in the same room as Agent Hill, though her eyes barely left the security screens she was monitoring, keeping a watchful eye on all agents within the tower as well as continuing incoming reports from other SHIELD agents. While the damage to New York was extensive, they still had to keep a watchful eye on the rest of the world. A few very skilled STRIKE teams were rumored to have been stationed around the world, but that was someone else's job. right now, Fitz was wondering if he could develop tiny robots that could do all the scanning that was required so that they wouldn't have to do everything by hand.

He continued checking the floor inch by inch for any debris. When the floor was cleared, Fitz knelt over his kit, packing up to go on to the next floor, just below them. A flash of red and black passed by and Fitz looked up to see the Black Widow tackle Agent Hill. Fitz tensed instinctively until he saw Maria start to rub Natasha's back. "I'm okay," she heard Natasha murmur. "We're okay."

"I could have lost you," Natasha said, her voice muffled by Maria's shoulder.

"But you didn't," Maria said. Maria pulled away from Natasha, trying and failing to look stern. "But 'love is for children?' really? You might want to think about turning the amp on your Black Widow persona up past 11 because I honestly don't know if it's high enough."

"It worked, didn't it," Natasha said with a noncommittal shrug. She placed a hand on Maria's stomach. "Besides, one day love will be for children. Our children. I've known this ever since you said my words" Fitz's eyes went wide. It wasn't common knowledge that Agents Romanoff and Hill were together, let alone _soulmates_. Unconsciously, Fitz thought of his own soulmarks. He had yet to meet them, but looked forward to that day. That day would be magical.

Maria suddenly seemed to notice that they weren't alone in the room. "Can I help you with something?" she asked sharply.

Fitz broke out of his stupor, unsure of what he could say that _wouldn't_ result in being murdered by Natasha Romanoff. "I'm part of the clean-up crew from SciTech. You assigned me here, ma'am." Fitz said. He recognized Maria's words as one of the soulmarks he had, but the comment was so common that it barely registered.

Natasha and Maria exchanged a look before Natasha stepped forward. "Вы узнаете эти слова?"

Fitz's eyes widened. Russian. He had learned Russian as a teenager because of those words. 'Do you recognize those words?', which curled around his left thigh, had led him to the correct hypothesis that he'd meet his soulmates at the same time. "Д-Да. У меня есть свои слова," he managed to blurt out. 'Yes, I have your words.' He never thought that the Russian on his thigh would have been said by Natasha Romanoff.

For the first time in his life, Fitz's mind couldn't seem to catch up with what was happening in front of him. He had always found Agents Hill and Romanoff to be beautiful. Who wouldn't? He even fantasized about each of them once or twice (what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, right?), but never in his wildest dreams did he ever presume to think that _they_ would be his soulmates. He wondered how in the world he had pleased Fate so much that he was given two such beautiful women.

Everyone, it seemed, stood frozen within the room, staring at each other until Tony Stark came in, holding a tablet a few moments later. "Hill, I know that Fury sent you here to clear all the debris from Loki's temper tantrum away from the tower, but can you stop allowing the agents to use the personal elevator? I have a service elevator that works perfectly fine."

The moment broken, Fitz snapped up and returned to his job, his hands shaking as heat colored his cheeks. The reality of the situation sunk in. Surely they wouldn't want someone like him. This was _Natasha Romanoff_ and _Maria Hill_. They could do so much better than him. Stark seemed not to notice Fitz, at least.

"Pepper told me that she was claiming it as part of her twelve percent of the tower," Hill said. "She says she likes looking at the sweaty workmen."

"At least get some lady-scientists down here at some point then? This is the age of STEM is it not?" Fitz glared at Tony, ever-defensive of his best friend Jemma, even if she wasn't in the room and Stark had no knowledge of her. Stark looked between him, Hill, and Romanoff, curious.

"Say, what's going on-" the billionaire started to say.

"Go talk to Pepper, Stark," Hill snapped.

"Fine, geez. Point taken. Do your thing," Stark quipped, then left the penthouse. "I've got Avengers to assemble. Romanoff, we're going to have that meeting later."

Fitz bent over scanning alien debris, blushing bright red. He refused to look at his two soulmates. He could feel them staring at him which made him blush further. This wasn't him. He might not be an agent but he certainly wasn't afraid of a little action (and a little more _action_ ). He certainly shouldn't be afraid of his soulmates. Even if they were way out of his league.

Fitz straightened and looked both women in the eye, determined to see this through. "I'll just be going then. I mean, there's a lot to do and we need to be out of here as quickly as possible. Can't have anyone getting too curious. I mean, about the aliens, of course. Because you're lives are private and -" Maria rushed over and grabbed him, kissing him hard. The pull towards the first of his two soulmates was too strong. He kissed her back, as hard as he could muster. He placed his hands on the small of Maria's back. He was getting aroused just by the _idea_ of both of his soulmates double-teaming him. He squeaked when he felt heated, wet kisses peppering the back of his neck. He'd never realized that Agent Romanoff was so short. She seemed so tall, even in briefings that he had sat in on when he provided tech to her STRIKE team.

They were both, in fact, shorter than him, he noted with a certain amount of male pride. Maria broke the kiss, her hand weaving it's way through his thick, curly hair. "We've been looking for you for such a long time, and here you were, right in front of our noses," Maria said tenderly.

"Guess Fate was waiting for the right moment," Fitz said.

"You speak Russian?" Natasha asked. The three of them somehow organically migrated to a couch on the other side of the room. Fitz somehow found himself in the middle, Maria still playing with his hair while Natasha, who was surprisingly tactile when she wasn't playing the role of the Black Widow, curled up to Fitz's side. Fitz could see them doing this together fifty years from now.

Fitz nodded, realizing that he hadn't yet answered. "I learned while I was earning my first Ph.D. in mechanical engineering," he said. Both Maria and Natasha looked impressed and Fitz blushed again. "Just a little side-project," he said. "I wanted to know what my mark said, and I assumed if I had a mark in Russian, I should probably learn."

They weren't able to talk for long. Inevitably, Natasha was pulled into a meeting with the remaining Avengers, and Maria was needed to oversee the cleaning up of the city, but they all had the night off as mandated in the SHIELD Manual (Section 42L, Paragraph 5) that they were permitted downtime for the bond to take a hold. Soul bonds were no joke, even in SHIELD. Fitz finished bagging and tagging, but found that he didn't want to leave Maria. He had situated himself by his mate, talking with her in short bursts in between phone calls. He tried his best to make her smile, since it made his heart leap every time that he saw the tension ease from her eyes, but eventually, he knew he had to leave to meet Jemma.

"Fitz, you would not believe the day I've had," Jemma ranted. "The biochem analysis of the aliens is going to take months, one of the STRIKE teams had to be quarantined due because they were dumb enough to actually step inside that huge space whale that crashed into Grand Central, _and_ Doctor Sullivan says that I can watch the autopsy of one of the Chitauri. It's exhilarating." Jemma stopped. "Fitz, are you okay? You look really pale. What happened?"

Fitz looked at Jemma, the reality that Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill were his soulmates. They had both made him promise to keep it quiet - both had too many enemies that would use Fitz to get Natasha and SHIELD, and now the Avengers, to cooperate. Fitz took a few tries to open his mouth. "Aliens."

Maria hadn't wanted him going on the Bus and neither had Natasha. Even Fitz had been extremely reluctant to go, not for the adventure, but from being apart from his soulmates. They had bonded months ago, quite stupendously, but no one but Fury knew the truth about the three of them. Natasha and Maria were too afraid of losing Fitz to allow anyone, even Jemma, to know. Jemma had wanted to go on the bus so badly that Fitz had a hard time saying no to the request. Maria said that it was because he was feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to tell her. It was probably true, but it didn't mean that leaving his soulmates didn't suck any less. Their goodbyes had not been brief, and had truthfully been mostly naked, but they all understood. This was the life of a SHIELD agent, and Fitz would be back on his next furlough. Maria had run a hand through her hair, kissed him firmly, and made him swear up and down that he wouldn't actively seek out combat.

Natasha, who had been training Fitz in secret ("just in case"), pressed a number into the palm of his hand one night. "Memorize it, Misha," she said. "You call it if you get even a hint of trouble and the Avengers will come help you."

Fitz stared at the Bus as Jemma excitedly jabbered next to him. Maria was right. This really was a whole new world.


	3. The Briefest Touch Can Change the World

The ground shook. Everyone looked around nervously. "Son of Coul, what is this?" Sif demanded.

May immediately took a step towards Skye, projecting peace and calm. Sif regarded the pair curiously. Skye appeared to be panicking and pieces started fitting together in Sif's mind.

"Skye... you want to talk to us?" Coulson asked nervously as the cups near the sink started to rattle. "Skye, what's doing this?"

The young woman looked small and scared. "I am," she said, voice weak and shaky. Sif frowned. Lady Skye was the Kree weapon. How had she missed it?

Sif made a grab for her and made contact just for a moment. Skye shrieked as electricity ran through both of their bodies. Sif was shocked herself, but the jolt unfortunately shattered Skye's control. May grabbed her and dragged her bodily down the hall. Sif gave chase, but the Midgardians were swift. They raised some sort of shield and Sif withdrew her blade to break it. After 1200 years, nothing could get between her and her bond mate.

"Agent May, let me in, please!" Sif shouted. The quake increased and Sif redoubled her efforts, terrified harm would come to her mate.

The shield finally shattered and Sif rushed in, seeing Skye shoot herself with a gun, then collapse. "She harmed herself!" Sif cried. There was a clatter of a sword as Sif gathered Skye into her arms in grief and stroked her mate's hair. "Please, not when I've waited all these long years. Please, not when I've finally found you."

She sobbed into Skye's hair, rocking herself and her mate. The small crowd of people stared until May glared at them into dispersing. " Lady Sif, I'm not sure I follow..."

Sif looked up and stared, eyes shining, "Are you familiar, Lady May, of the concept of soulmates?"

Coulson looked at May, "There are some that say that they are, but there isn't any definitive system. Is there on Asgard?"

Sif nodded. "It is known on Asgard that when two soulmates touch, they are marked for the rest of their days." She extended her hand to show May and Coulson them the pattern of stars that now covered the inside of Sif's left thumb and two of her fingers. A pattern of swirls nearly surrounded Skye's right wrist where Sif had grabbed her mate. Sif stared at them. "It is my name," Sif said sadly. "I found my soulmate and she perished at her own hand in fear of me."

"Lady Sif," May said carefully. "Skye isn't dead."

"What?" Sif stared, wide-eyed at the Son of Coul and Lady May. She did not dare to hope.

"She's only stunned," Son of Coul explained.

"A clever magic," Sif said in relieved. "I must beg her forgiveness. If she prefers that I not remain a part of her life, then I must accept that as my fate."

"Sif, can I ask," Son of Coul started awkward. "What I mean to ask is, how long have you been searching for her?"

"Twelve hundred years I have been looking, Son of Coul. I despaired in my youth that I could not find my mate, and joined Odin's army. I thought perhaps if I proved myself, my ancestors who had gone to Valhalla would lead me to her. It seems that I have, but only for them to show me what a fool I still am."

"If she goes with you, will she be harmed or imprisoned?"

Sif shook her head. "On my honor as a warrior, I would see her trained, properly. If it were out of her control, she could tear apart continents. I would not see her have to bear the burden of being the wielder of such actions."

"And others on Asgard?"

"What the Kree did was horrific. I believe that many consider it an act of pity to end the victims' lives; Odin decreed long ago that the Kree weapons should not be killed on sight but must be judged for their intents and actions. No one would go against that decree. I wished to return her to Asgard because Lady Skye has done nothing wrong, but her power requires training." Sif paused. "You told me of her when we were on the sky ship," Sif said. "If I had met her then and not been distracted by Lorelai, much would be different right now."

"If I hadn't taken on Loki, you might have never met her," Son of Coul pointed out.

Sif wanted to stay with Skye, but Son of Coul convinced her to allow him to speak with her first. May took her to the kitchen and handed her a cup of tea. "Does everyone on Asgard have a soulmate?" May asked.

Sif nodded, sipping the drink to calm her nerves. "The Allfather and Queen Frigga are the most well-known, but we all have a soulmate somewhere. Fate decrees it so; marks appear the first time you touch your mate. Many find their mates on Asgard, while others are on mostly on Vanaheim or Alfheim."

"She's awake," Son of Coul said, entering the kitchen. "And she's willing to talk to you."

Sif rose. "I thank you," she said to Lady May, "for your company." For a second Sif thought that her fellow warrior appeared somewhat teary-eyed. She got the impression that there was something of a maternal instinct within Lady May for Skye.

Sif followed Son of Coul down to Vault D. The young Midgardian looked so small and timid on the bed that Sif had to suppress her desire to wrap her up in blankets and keep her safe and loved forever.

Sif cautiously unsheathed her sword and laid it down in front of the bed. Sif knelt, bowing her head. "I apologize, Lady Skye. I hastily judged before fully understanding the situation or explaining my position. By Odin's decree, no harm shall come to you."

There was a long silence, during which Sif did not move. "I suppose… I mean… no one got hurt, so I suppose it's alright."

Sif rose her head and examined her mate's features. Twenty-five years seemed like such a short time for someone who had lived hundreds. "Please tell me how I may ease your anxiety? I have some skill in arts beyond being a warrior. Perhaps a traditional Asgardian meal?"

Skye's eyes opened wide for a moment, then she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm fine."

Sif stiffened, noting the slight tension around Skye's eyes and mouth. "What ails you?" Sif asked.

"My… uh… the ICER that I used to stun myself gives you a pretty nasty headache," Skye noted.

Sif sat in a chair beside Skye's bed and extended both hands. "May I try something?" Skye looked at her warily, but nodded. Sif brushed her fingertips to the temples on either side of Skye's head, Skye gave a pleasurable moan as Sif began to kneed her thumbs into the temples tenderly.

Skye wilted towards Sif, humming with pleasure. "Coulson, uh… Coulson told me that you could explain this?" Skye asked lifting her wrist. By instinct, Sif brushed the swirls on Skye's wrist, the edge of her own mark touching for the briefest of moments. They both shuddered with pleasure. "What?" Skye demanded, shocked. "What did you do to me?"

Sif considered her words. "I am told that among your people you do not have soulmates. On Asgard, the first touch between you and your mate marks you as a mated pair. The Fates are never wrong."

" _Mated?_ " Skye asked, wide-eyed.

Sif bowed her head. "I do not presume to think that you might want me due to my initial rejection of you, but please allow me to ensure that you are not burdened by your gift. You're power can used for so much good, but if it slips from your control… I do not wish to see you suffer thus."

Panic started to engulf Skye once more, Sif could see it in wide, wild eyes and tears and slightly opened lips. Sif set again to rubbing Skye's temples. Giving as much calm through the bond as she could without alerting her.

Sif told Skye of her childhood - of no one taking seriously as a warrior until she proved them all wrong and earned a place as a guard in Odin's palace. Skye in turn spoke of growing up alone and rejected by all who met her. Sif was shocked by the idea of an orphanage and explained in depth that communities on Asgard were obligated to raise an orphan, especially when one's parents had gone to Valhalla, like Skye's mother had. The Allfather looked down on a community that could not take care of its young.

Skye liked the idea and far sooner than she was expecting, she said, "I'll go with you." Sif looked shocked, causing Skye to blush, "I-I mean, if that's okay with you. Coulson said you waited 1200 years for me and… I don't - I don't know why, but I trust you."

"So y-you're... going with her?"

Skye smiled. Fitz had asked her almost the same thing when she arrived on the Bus. "They can help me," Skye said softly. "I want to learn control."

"Lady Sif could be… lying," Fitz pointed out.

Skye shook her head. "She's not. I know it seems weird. I get crazy-scary earthquake powers and suddenly an Asgardian says I'm her soulmate and I'm leaving… but I need to learn control." Skye watched Fitz carefully for his reaction, hoping he understood. "Besides, tension here is high and Ward and Cal are still out there… maybe this is for the best."

Fitz suddenly rushed her and hugged her tightly. "I'm really going t'miss you," he said, his brogue thickening.

"I'll miss you too," Skye said quietly. She'd never forget everything Fitz had done for her. "But once I get a handle on my power, I'll be back to visit."

Breaking the hug, Fitz situated himself on Skye's bed as she packed. Despite her pride in her life fitting in a dufflebag and a box, she had still acquired some knick-knacks over the last year. She and Fitz went to the front door where Coulson, May, Sif and Vintak were waiting. Skye took a nervous step back when Vintak spotted her, but from his bored expression he didn't even recognize her.

"Well, I guess this is it," Skye said awkwardly. She hugged Fitz once more, wondering if she'd ever see him again. Fitz, as always, seemed to understand. She looked down at the floor, wishing Jemma was there to say goodbye to. Leaving Fitz on base, the five traveled to the spot away from the base that allowed room for the Bifrost.

May squeezed her shoulder, causing her to look up again. "Don't slack on your training," May advised.

Skye smiled. "Somehow I doubt anyone there will let me do that." Skye said, setting her things down and pulling May into a hug. Surprisingly, May didn't stiffen, but hugged her back tightly.

The two broke the hug and Skye turned to Coulson. "Guess it really was Fate that crossed our paths."

"You stay safe," Coulson said thickly. "And send word to us as often as you can?"

"I don't think they have e-mail on Asgard," Skye quipped, then sobered. "But I'll do everything I can to keep you posted." Coulson wrapped her a tight hug and Skye had to _shove_ the tears down.

Breaking away, Skye picked her stuff up and gave Sif a tentative smile. She turned to AC and May. "See you when I see you," she said, taking Sif's hand.

"Heimdell, open the Bifrost," Sif called. Maybe it was the bond forming, but Skye couldn't help but feel like she was finally going home.


	4. The Zombie Robbing the Cradle

"Clint got hurt again," Natasha said to the nearly-empty room.

Helen looked up from inventory and groaned, grabbing her go-bag. "Where are we going this time," she said. "And what happened?"

"Mutated squid," Natasha reported. "Woods Hole. It's pretty bad. Clint's okay though, but we think he ruptured his eardrum again. And he might have broken his leg… can't ever be too sure with Clint."

Helen winced. Some of the best marine biologists in the country worked out of Woods Hole this time of year. "And he wouldn't be able to tell due to his disability," Helen said. Not many people knew that an Avenger, the World's Greatest Marksman, was almost completely deaf. While on some level he wanted to tell people - show disabled people that they really _could_ be anything if they worked around their challenges, there was some concern for his safety if word got out. That concern coming from other people, of course. Chief among them, Helen herself.

It didn't take long for them to fly to Woods Hole - not when it was such a short distance and with Stark tech at their fingertips.

Natasha led Helen to her partner, who was lying next to a man in a skin-tight leather suit. "He pushed me out of the way," Clint said hollowly, following Helen's gaze. "Snapped his neck when he was thrown into a wall."

"Who was he?" Helen asked, starting to examine Clint. The dead man had the look of a superhero. It was a pity, they needed more of those in the world.

"No idea. The guy just showed up, yammering the entire time. Stark was dumb enough to actually -" Clint groaned as Helen moved his leg. "Engage with the asshole."

Helen smiled. "Well I guess we should get you back to the tower. You're going to be out of commission for a while. Broken bones don't mend themselves and that eardrum's gonna take a good three months to fully heal."

"All I need is a good night's rest and I'll be right as rain, doc, no need to make a big deal about it," Clint argued.

"Yeah, that's not what your wife tells me," Helen said quietly so that only he and Natasha could hear her. Clint's family wasn't common knowledge but, as Laura was Clint's medical proxy, Helen was required to know.

"She's gonna be pissed," Clint groaned quietly.

Another groan was heard near them then. Helen looked around, but didn't see anything. On edge, she returned to checking on Clint. Clint instantly sensed Helen's tension.

"What?" Clint asked, trying to sit up and look around.

Helen shoved Clint down. "Stay down. It's nothing. I just thought I heard something."

Helen set to work splinting Clint's leg so they could get him to where they could cast it. Halfway through splinting his leg, she heard it again. A loud moan. Helen tensed again, getting up and walking a few feet in every direction, looking for the source of the moaning.

She picked up a spare bit of wood that seemed to have been debris from a restaurant's patio, lifting it like a bat.

She was met with dead silence. Apart from her, Clint, and a couple poor souls who hadn't survived, there was no one around for ten or twenty yards.

"Everything okay?" Clint asked, following Helen's gaze.

"I don't know," Helen said honestly. "I keep hearing groaning."

The man in red _moved_ suddenly _,_ causing both Helen and Clint to move away from him, the movement causing Clint to whimper as he clutched his leg instinctively. It was then that the man in red _sat up._

"Zombie!" Helen shrieked. "Oh my god, a zombie!"

The man seemed to smile, though Helen couldn't tell since his mouth was under the mask.

"You'll have to aim for a whole different head if you're going to unmake me, darlin'," he drawled.

Helen wasn't able to process what she was seeing in front of her. She had checked this guy's pulse herself. He was unequivocally dead not ten minutes ago and now he was sitting up and talking to them.

Helen heard a bang and the man fell backwards. She looked down at Clint who was holding his needle gun, the gun he used for his flechettes, with a shaking arm. Even with Clint's shaking arm, they were too close for it to be anything but a headshot. Natasha was holding both her guns at Wade's head too.

"Man, that smarts," the man said, sitting up again and pulling the flechette out of his head. "Could we maybe not do that so often? The healing factor I got, but I still feel pain."

Helen had heard others say during outlandish, big-fish tales and in fantasy novels about how time stood still the moment they met their soulmate. Helen now knew how they felt. She stood stock-still. Not believing the words she heard. No way. No way was this man could be her soulmate. "H-h-healing factor?" Helen finally stammered out.

"Yup," the man chirped. "They haven't invented a weapon yet that can kill me. No matter what, I always come back. You never have to worry about losing me. I'm Deadpool, but you and only you can call me Wade." Wade looked up at Natasha. "Ohmaigosh! Nattie!" he cried. He suddenly leapt to his feet and engulfed Natasha in a tackling hug. "How's my favorite megasuperfoxyawesomehot Russian spyssassin? I haven't seen you since Kiev. Remember that place right by the river where you nearly kissed me because those guards were onto us? That was _awesome_. Not as awesome as the fact that I woke up one morning and New York was exploding and _you were on TV_ and -" There was a large bang and Wade was blown off Natasha's body.

Natasha was stone faced as her sidearm smoked slightly.

"I'm sorry, _Nattie_?" Came the voice of Tony Stark.

Natasha immediately whipped around and put a gun to Tony's head. "You ever call me that, Stark, and you'll be taking a dirt nap," Natasha growled. Tony gulped and nodded before Natasha lowered her weapon.

Helen was just staring at Wade's body. At the large hole in his chest - which was closing over right before her incredulous eyes.

"That's not even _possible_ ," she gaped.

"You live with the Hulk, a super soldier from the 40s, and an egotistical billionaire who saves the world in a metal suit, but _this_ is what's impossible?" Wade asked, grunting as the hole closed completely. "There have been reports of mutants going back a long ways. This shouldn't really be all that shocking."

"I-I-I just…" Helen said, speechless, her scientific mind processing the possibilities of the application of such abilities. If she could bottle this, could T.A.H.I.T.I. really work? Of course, there was a smaller part of her mind that had been frequently shoved down to a corner during her adult life that couldn't help but rake an appreciative eye over Wade's svelte body.

"I think we should save that as an After Dark activity," Wade said. "Unless you want Captain Star-Spangled Underpants watching."

Steve blushed bright red as Tony grinned broadly at him. Natasha looked around. "We should get out of here before the press gets wind of what happened here."

"What exactly _did_ happen here?" Tony asked.

"You just witnessed the meeting of two soulmates," Natasha said, while Helen checked on Clint. The man was blissfully unconscious and since Clint had shown no sign of concussion for once, Helen let him sleep.

Helen efficiently transferred Clint to a stretcher and Steve and Natasha each picked up a different end of it.

"It's so funny that the universe paired me up with a doctor," Wade said, getting up again. "I'm really robbing the cradle with you, huh?"

Helen froze, a lightbulb going off. Robbing the Cradle. She had been chasing the idea of speeding up healing processes with some kind of serum on and off for a few years, but nothing had ever come of it, but if she could -

Deadpool inserted his hand into hers. "Stop thinking about science," he purred softly into her ear. "Or do I have to fuck you speechless."

Steve Rogers went bright red as Helen laughed at her soulmate, unashamed. Kissing him quickly as they made their way back to the quinjet. Wade was definitely going to keep her on her toes.


	5. I Just Called

Clint Barton hated the topic of soulmates. Since the beginning of time, when two soulmate's met, the song that would best describe their relationship. As a child and teenager, he hadn't thought twice about the idea, even dreaming of the day that he'd get to hear "their song" and meet his mate for life. When he had run away from foster care and joined the circus he had figured that he would meet his match, his mate, there, but he never heard the music.

Then he had gone deaf and his world shattered. After doctors told him that he had lost 80% of his hearing and would need hearing aids the rest of his life, he wondered if he would ever get to hear the song. Without his aides, he could only ever hear loud noises and some ambient sounds, and even with them it was like hearing sound through a straw. But Clint was nothing if he not adaptable. He threw himself into work, dedicating himself to world-saving. He spent hours training in the shooting range training on every weapon imaginable when he wasn't on-mission and what they said about him became undebatably true - he really was the world's best marksman.

His hard work paid off. He became a legend in SHIELD and became an Avenger. He forgot about the idea of having a soulmate. So when he was wheeled into the infirmary for the standard SHIELD post-debriefing once-over (okay, _maybe_ he had been stabbed in the leg, but it hadn't been that deep!), Clint was shocked to hear the beginning notes from a guitar clearer than he had heard anything since his father had hit him as a child. He looked around at the empty room, There were a couple nurses, but it didn't seem like they were noticing anything different.

Then he heard it. A soft, pretty voice singing the same song that he heard. "No New Year's Day to celebrate, no chocolate-covered candy hearts to give away," the voice was coming from behind a set of closed curtains. It wasn't a bad voice, he thought as the voice hummed the song.

Clint ripped the curtains open and saw the slight, brown-haired woman. Her eyes were gorgeous and - mercy did she look young. The girl - woman looked up and after a moment recognition set in, her eyes going wide and her whole body stiffening. She stopped singing.

Clint picked up the tune stepping towards her. "I just called to say I love you. I just called to say how much I care. I just called to say I love you, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart."

The woman's eyes widened further. "You can hear it…" she said softly. He didn't hear that, his hearing aids hadn't been in his ears, but he saw the lips move.

"You're my soulmate," Clint said. He took a step forward and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and behind her ear.

Tears formed on her face as one hand came up slowly to cover Clint's (which it only did partially) and the other went down to her stomach as she struggled, painfully, to sit up.

Clint stopped her, "what happened?" he said, his eyes grating over her body and zeroing in over the gauze on her stomach.

The woman in front of him blushed and looked away from him. "I got shot," she admitted. "On a mission."

Clint stiffened. Who in their right mind would send her out in the field? He'd seen Ops cadets that weren't as green as this girl. "Promise me they're dead," Clint growled.

"In SHIELD custody," she said.

Clint made an unhappy noise as he continued to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

His mate finally found the button and did so, wincing. "Why are you sorry?" she said.

Clint looked away. "I didn't … you got _shot_ ," he said. He needed to protect her. She was more precious than anything that he had ever been paid to retrieve or protect. She would never die on his watch.

"Hey," she reassured him, grabbing his hand. "I'm okay now. Nothing a couple weeks of bed rest won't cure."

"I just… I… I can't lose my soulmate when I just met them," Clint said.

"You won't," Skye said. Some instinct told her that her soulmate would never leave her. "Though I really need to know my soulmate's name."

"I'm Clint. Clint Barton," Clint said, sitting in a chair next to her. He couldn't believe how lucky he was, or how beautiful and young his soulmate was.

"Skye," Skye said."I, uh, don't have a last name." Her eyes suddenly widened in realization. " _Hawkeye_?" she squeaked. "My soulmate is _Hawkeye_?"

Clint chuckled at her. "It's not nearly as glamourous as it sounds. I'm an old bastard that's seen too much in my life to ever be considered normal. I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. You're so… innocent and beautiful."

Skye looked away. "I'm not at all innocent," she said, looking away from Clint. She wanted to tell him about the massacre of her village, of growing up so alone that she joined the Rising Tide because they were the first group of people who gave her the time of day. "I was Rising Tide before SHIELD grabbed me."

"You were Rising Tide? The group behind all of those information releases?"

"I'm… not wild about secrets," Skye said. "I grew up an orphan in the foster system. The only record I have of where I came from is a single, redacted SHIELD document." Skye looked away, but Clint saw the tears that threatened to spill over.

Clint immediately slid into bed with her and enveloped her in his arms. "Oh Skye, no. I'm not judging you I promise. I _promise_.I couldn't - I've done so much worse, trust me."

The door opened and Clint immediately rolled over Skye to cover her, agitated from everything that she had just told him.

"Jesus Barton, no need to make the wounded sick on top of their injuries," came Stark's voice. Clint immediately relaxed, rolling off of Skye but staying in the bed.

Clint winced in regret as Skye bit back a whimper of pain. "Ma'am, are you okay?" Steve asked.

Skye breathed heavily for a moment while Clint checked under the gauze, confirming that no stitches had been torn. He was alarmed at the placement of the wounds, shocked that Skye was even alive right now. He tried to stomp down on the surge of protectiveness he felt.

"Um, I'm fine," Skye said, clearly overwhelmed. She looked so cute, the way that her cheeks and the tops of her ears went slightly red and she refused to make eye contact with the Avengers.

"She's cute, Barton," Natasha said, immediately catching onto what was happening. "Perfect for you." Clint sat up, rolling his eyes.

"Butt out," Clint said.

"Is there something we're missing?" Steve asked.

"I'm his, uh, soulmate," Skye said, starting to recover.

"Another Agent of SHIELD?" Stark asked scathingly.

Skye smirked. "Nah, I just consult with them. Decided to hitch a ride on the crazy plane with AC. Didn't exactly plan on that getting me shot twice in the stomach though."

"I thought _I_ was SHIELD's only consultant," Stark pouted.

"Clearly they needed a better hacker," Skye bantered. Stark looked like he had been slapped. It was hysterical.

A young brunette suddenly burst into the room, "hey Skye, Coulson says -" the brunette, who was English judging by the accent, froze, and so did every single Avenger in the room. It didn't make sense, Coulson had been killed a year ago on the helicarrier by Loki. How was it that they were talking about him in the present tense?

Natasha moved first. Her eyes like steel as she shoved the brunette into a wall. Clint stiffened himself and Skye grabbed his arm, trying to sit up, dividing Clint's attention. "Is Coulson still alive?" Natasha demanded. "Tell me now."

Skye gave a little 'oh' and Clint glanced down, seeing the gauze on Skye's stomach change from white to red. "Someone get a doctor!" Clint said in a panic. Someone hit a button and a nurse came in. She paled at the sight of Natasha holding Jemma against the wall, then turned her attention to Clint and Skye.

"She's bleeding," Clint said, still panicked.

"I'm fine," Skye said tightly.

"What part of 'two weeks of bed rest' and 'don't move' don't you understand?" The nurse chastised "You should be dead," she gave Skye a Look. "I'll get an intern to come and stitch you back up," she said finally, looking at the wound. "It looks like you just popped a stitch."

"What the hell is going on in here?" said a voice at the doorway. Everyone except the nurse froze again. Clint turned and looked at the man in the doorway, just like everyone else in the room. Phil Coulson paled, realizing who was in the room. "Oh. This is going to take explaining."

"Told you that you should have told them," came another voice. Melinda May, Clint knew immediately.

"Barton, what the hell are you doing in my Agent's bed?" Coulson snapped. Clint's eyes widened. The way Coulson said 'Agent', Clint was almost positive what Coulson really meant to say was 'daughter'.

"He's my soulmate AC," Skye said. Coulson went gray.


	6. Dear Jane

Steve hadn't initially intended to hang around the Tower for more than a few hours after the Chitauri attacked New York, but the cleanup and recovery took a good deal longer than that. He felt responsible for what happened and couldn't help but console those who were grieving, and help in any way SHIELD would allow him.

A full 48-hours after aliens attacked New York, it had been 72 hours since he had had a decent night's rest. Stark had pointed him towards a room in the tower that had been left undamaged in the battle, but he must have taken a wrong turn because he found himself in front of a lab that had a gorgeous woman working tirelessly and with laser-like focus within it.

The door opened by itself (something Steve was still getting used to) and Steve felt compelled to move forward, all the while staring at the woman in front of him. She was absolutely gorgeous. Steve couldn't help but frown at the dark circles under her eyebrows.

"He left me a Dear Jane letter, can you believe it? That's it. I'm done with men!"

Steve froze. Those words had appeared on his hip some time while he was in the ice. All he knew is that he had awoken and they were scrawled messily there. He stared at the woman. He knew his soulmate would be dealing with a breakup when he met them, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing to give the woman the wrong idea. He wouldn't rush her. God, he would never rush her. He wanted her to allow her heart to mend before falling in love again. Perhaps it wouldn't be too much to ask for them to spend a little time getting to know each other during that time as well.

The woman glanced up and froze as well. "Oh. You're not Darcy. You're Captain America," she said, wide-eyed, but still bent over her work.

"I've dreamed of meeting my soulmate for nearly a hundred years." Steve said breathlessly. "You don't do my dreams justice." Steve winced. He hadn't intended to sound so ridiculously cheesy.

The woman shot straight up, and Steve rushed forward, catching her just before she hit her head on a piece of equipment hanging precariously over her workspace, pulling her into his arms. She laughed once she initially got over her shock. "Well you're the best-looking nonagenarian I'll ever meet, thank God!" Steve blushed and righted the woman. "When I was born with my soulwords, we were all afraid that I was going to lose my soulmate early in our relationship or I wasn't going to meet them until the end of my own life."

Steve's own eyes widened as he realized that the context of his words had probably sounded horrible. "I'm so sorry ma'am," Steve said. "I'm Steve Rogers, by the way. Captain America is for the press. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn."

"Jane Foster. I'm from London," Jane said. Steve's eyebrows furrowed together. There were traces of an accent, but she sounded pretty American. "My mother was British and my father was American. I came over to the states to live with him and finish High School and go to college. I got bullied a little for the accent, so I dropped it pretty quick."

"I'd like to hear it some time," Steve said. "I got a thing for pretty English girls."

"So I've heard…" Jane said with a knowing smile.

Steve blushed. "The press makes half of that stuff up," he said timidly.

"Oh, no, these are stories I grew up on," Jane said. "My father and my great uncle both said that they knew you pretty well."

"Oh?" Steve asked, his interest piqued.

Jane nodded. "I don't… advertise it. My mother never married my father, so I have her name, but … my father was Tim Duggan and my great uncle was James Falsworth."

"Your father was Dum Dum Duggan?" Steve asked, shocked.

Jane nodded. "Dad met Mom when Great Uncle Jim invited him to a family event. They fell in love, but Dad wasn't the marrying type. I moved to the states so I could stay close to him when he got older. He died just after I graduated from Undergrad." Both of them gained a pained look, each with their own separate memories of the man. "He loved me, though. Taught me everything that I knew. Taught me about his hero, a man who always pushed for the truth, unwavering in his efforts to do what was right and be one of the good guys." Jane smiled at Steve. "When I got accepted into the PhD program at Oxford for Astrophysics, he told me, 'find the truth. Whatever you do in life, find the truth, just like Steve did.'"

Steve's face, from his forehead down, was bright pink. "He was a good man." He stared down at his beautiful soulmate. Steve had heard of her from Thor. Come to think of it, the Asgardian had given him several mournful looks. Was it possible that Thor knew that Steve was Jane's mate?

"I know that you just had a bad break up," Steve stammered. "I wouldn't want to … I mean I know you and Thor…"

"I'm fine with taking things slow," Jane cut in with a soft smile. "I hope you don't mind that I was in a relationship before…"

"Given my words, I had a feeling," Steve said. "We did have Dear John letters back in the 40s. I had a friend who received one during the war."

Jane winced. "I'm alright," she said softly.

"If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you," Steve said as calmly as he could manage. "That's what soulmates are for."

So they took things slow. Steve didn't mind - they had time. Steve had a little down time because of the Battle of New York. They took walks in the park, listened to jazz music while Steve drew and Jane studied the stars, and went to the movies. It was a little fascinating to watch Jane fall out of "what could have been" with Thor and into love with him as Steve. Darcy complained good-naturedly that she had yet another single-minded person to take care of, but she quickly changed her tune when she discovered that Steve not only had an off-switch, but he also was able to get Jane to quit working and take regular breaks.

Jane had then been called back home regarding her studies on the Einstein-Rosen bridge and since Steve had missions to run out of Washington for SHIELD, he couldn't go with her, but when he received the report that she had disappeared, he rushed to London to look for her. Darcy filled him in on everything that had happened and Steve couldn't help the fear and rage he felt bubbling inside him. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jane and Thor, but the idea that he couldn't be there for his mate fed his fighter nature.

When Greenwich was all but destroyed and the Dark Elves defeated, Thor returned Jane to Steve with a respectful nod. Steve nodded back before wrapping an exhausted Jane in his arms, inhaling her scent as she sobbed in his arms.

Returning to the quarters SHIELD had assigned Steve, the mated pair slept together, then _slept together._ The illusion of them having endless days together had been destroyed and neither of them wanted to spend time apart any more.

Bucky had Steve pinned and there was a glint of recognition. Steve arched into his mate, kissing him hard. When he broke away, Bucky stared at Steve, stunned. "Steve?" He asked. "What… I thought you were smaller."

"I joined the army," Steve responded almost automatically.

Bucky's face crumpled. "They made me do it, Steve. I couldn't move. I could only watch as… oh my God I could have killed my own mate."

"Let's get out of here and I'll introduce you to our third," Steve said. The next second, the steel beam below them gave way and both of them plummeted into the Potomac.

Natasha was shocked to find Bucky crouching over Steve when she found them on the shoreline several hours later. She raised both of her guns and pointed them at him. What shocked Natasha more was that Bucky moved to put his body between Natasha and Steve, shielding him.

"Barnes?" Natasha asked slowly.

He had since taken off his mask and his outer layer, putting the extra clothes over Steve to keep him warmer. If not for the hand that glinted silver, he almost looked normal - certainly nothing like the Winter Soldier. Bucky looked at her with shame-filled eyes. "It's all my fault. I should have helped him more. I… he's my soulmate."

Natasha took a step towards them and Bucky stiffened on instinct. Natasha raised both her hands so that Bucky could see she was unarmed. "It's okay, Yasha, I just want help him. It looks pretty bad from here. Can we take him to a hospital to have him checked over?"

The name rang a bell, but Bucky shook his head. "They could be HYDRA. Anyone could be HYDRA," he intoned. "Can't trust them."

Natasha took another two steps forward, "can you trust me?" she asked.

Bucky sat still for a full three seconds, staring at Natasha. He remembered her from before. She called him Yasha, that was right. She had been… kind. Finally he nodded, to Natasha's great relief. She discreetly sent JARVIS a message that they'd need to be picked up. Clint had been waiting for Natasha's call with a Stark quinjet waiting When Clint came, Natasha couldn't help but feel sympathy for Bucky, who kept switching between looking like a trapped animal and a mama bear.

He stiffened when Clint approached with the gurney, protecting Steve again with his body. Clint's eyes went wide when he saw Bucky. "They're soulmates, Clint. HYDRA brainwashed him. This is James Buchanan Barnes."

If it was possible, Clint's eyes went wider. They were filled with understanding rather than pity though, which Bucky appreciated. "You look like you took quite the beating too," Clint finally said. "Maybe we should get you checked over as well."

Bucky stiffened, instinctively knowing what that meant within HYDRA. Clint winced at his verbal slip. "Don't like hospitals, huh?" Clint asked casually. "A man after my own heart."

Bucky tentatively assisted with loading Steve onto the gurney. Once they were loaded into the Quinjet, he sat at Steve's head tensely watchful of every movement.

He refused to move, even after Doctor Cho nearly stripped to show Bucky she had no weapons on her. Eventually, they let Bucky sit where he was. He refused to let anyone touch him, several of his wounds from the fall off the helicarrier oozing blood.

Natasha went back to retrieve Sam and by the time they returned, Steve and Bucky had been placed in a recovery cubicle. Bucky shifted anxiously from foot to foot as his gaze switched from Steve to Sam and back. All desire to hate Bucky for all his crimes as the Winter Soldier had gone out the window when Sam met the man and realized that, among other things, he had the worst case of PTSD that Sam had ever seen.

So they sat and talked while Sam played Jazz standards in the background allowing for the mood in the room to be as nervous and untrusting as Bucky obviously felt. The uneasy tension in the room was broken when the door was flung open. A gorgeous brunette burst through and gave a strangled cry when she spotted Steve. Bucky and Sam both got up.

"He's going to be okay, Jane," Sam said, reassuring her.

Jane turned to him. "I love him," she said.

His other words. Bucky stared at her stammering silently for a second before finding his words. "I know. Maybe you can learn to love me too?"


	7. Never Let You Go

All her life, Daisy had the most curious soulwords stamped on her ass. _I've got you. If they come back I'll kill them._ It made the other girls giggle when they saw it, and the nuns frown. Some of the nuns believed that placement of a soulmark said a lot about who you were as a person. A soulmark on your ass was nearly as bad as a couple of the orphans who had two soulmarks. One had three - she was lucky enough to be adopted by a soulmate quad shortly after she arrived.

Without any information on her parents and her past, Daisy latched on to the words. She had a future. Someone out there would be there for her. She became a girl obsessed with the topic. As she got older, she searched soulmate forums, looking to see if she could match the handwriting some people posted there to match a soulmate.

But she got black-bagged, joined SHIELD, and the world fell apart. Then she got powers, met her parents, and her world fell apart in an entirely different way. May left and Coulson became this entirely different _person_ that Daisy didn't know any more. So here Daisy sat on the balcony overlooking the hanger, staring out at everyone and wondering if she would ever belong anywhere. Her soulmark was the only reminder that she ever got that maybe, just maybe, she'd find someone and _maybe_ they wouldn't leave her.

"Skye," Coulson called from his office.

Daisy crossed the hallway into Coulson's office. "Daisy," she corrected.

"Sorry?" Coulson asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"I decided to go by Daisy. My parents named me it so I might as well," Daisy said. "Skye was only my hacker handle anyway."

"Okay," Coulson said slowly. "Anyway, I need you, Mack, and Hunter to head to New York. We're getting reports of an unidentified person or persons with possible super strength and we were hoping you'd check it out.

"First candidate on my Project Caterpillar list, coming right up!" Daisy said excitedly.

"Quinjet's leaving in one hour!" Coulson said. Daisy nodded and rushed off to get mission-ready.

-

The mission brought them out to an abandoned factory in Brooklyn. The report was that there was a man living there. Daisy wandered the building while Mack and Hunter checked the perimeter. She closed her eyes, feeling the thrum of the building and the people on the street. She tried to search for the man that they were looking for and thought that she had honed in on him when soldiers burst through the door. Daisy immediately shifted to fighter stance as a large number of people burst into every door and window. She cursed herself for not being more aware of her surroundings as she used the vibrations in the air to take out the first wave of attackers.

She tried to grab at her com, but it was ripped away from her. She held out her hands and blew the guy backwards. She didn't see the gunshot coming, but felt it before she heard it as the force rammed through her shoulder.

"Hail HYDRA," one said. She felt someone grab her arms and wretch them behind her back. He gave her a hungry, predatory look before Daisy kneed him in the balls. He growled at her and hit her in the head.

"What are we gonna do with her," someone asked. The room swam as she tried to get her bearings after the blow to her head.

"She's pretty," someone else noted. _Oh god, no_ , she thought.

"Nah, boss wants this one to himself," another said. Dazed, she was dragged backwards, her bonds secured to the wall and a bag shoved over her head. She heard a scuffle happening behind the door as she tried her best to quake her cuffs off.

The scuffling grew louder. She tensed, unsure of what was coming. One arm was now useless, her shoulder almost completely covered in blood. She stumbled, then fell, still chained to the wall, arms tied agonisingly up behind her.

"I got thirteen," somebody said.

Someone else groaned. "I never should have let Stark show you that movie."

"You only knocked out ten," the first said. "Sore loser."

Barely registering the words, Daisy rallied, standing and preparing to fight again, despite being chained to the wall and sightless. "If you're HYDRA, I'm not going down without a fight," she spat at the second man.

"We're not HYDRA," he replied, his voice quiet, soothing and even. He approached her cautiously and removed the hood then broke the cuffs off the wall. The blonde hair and blue eyes of the man finally registered. Captain Rogers. The first Avenger. She was safe. She looked at the other man and saw dark hair and blue eyes. She knew him from the reports on when SHIELD fell. The Winter Soldier. They were working together. Except that didn't make sense. Was she delirious?

Daisy swayed and the man who looked like the Winter Soldier caught her as she fell. "Please don't leave," Daisy said. "They'll come back."

The dark-haired man's eyes shot wide open, and he shared a look with Rogers, who immediately started putting pressure bandages around her shoulder.

"I've got you," he whispered, holding onto her firmly. "If they come back, I'll kill them."

"Soulmate?" Daisy said, fighting not to fall asleep. She was so tired.

"I'm Bucky," Bucky said. He put an arm under her knees and one around, lifting her and walking her swiftly … somewhere. Captain America had a friend named Bucky, but he was dead. It was all very confusing.

"'m Skye," she said softly, closing her eyes.

Bucky jostled her, causing her to suck in a breath and open her eyes wide. "Stay with us, Skye," Bucky said. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"'m Daisy now," she said. "My father killed my mother. Coulson made him forget…" Steve paused and stared at her.

"Phil Coulson?" Steve asked in shock.

"Didn't he die?" Bucky asked Steve.

"He came back," Daisy said tiredly, closing her eyes again. She winced as Bucky jostled her. "No biggie. I came back too. Go'shot an'then came back."

Steve opened a door and she saw sky and heard a helicopter. Her hair flew in every direction as they rushed her towards… what she wasn't sure. Maybe she was in the helicopter? "What happened?" someone else said.

"Mack?" Daisy asked faintly. "Hunter?"

"We're here, Tremors," Mack said from somewhere above her as she was laid on a gurney. "Hunter was a dumb-ass and ended up breaking his leg, but we're fine.

"She's delirious," Bucky said. "Keeps talking about people coming back from the dead."

"Died last time I got shot," Daisy slurred. "Two t'the stomach… bang bang." she winced as she felt a pinch to her arm.

"I got some O negative in here," came the voice. Another pinch to her other arm.

"Jesus. Did she put her shoulder through a blender?" Mack asked. Skye's head lolled to the side as the darkness pulled her under.

When she woke up again, she was in a medical facility. She lay somewhere between sleep and waking, her body not wanting to move as she listened to what was going on around her. It took her a minute to realize that it wasn't the SHIELD medical bay she was used to. She tried to get up but someone held her down. Her right arm was in a sling and her shoulder encased in some serious gauze. There was an IV in her left hand and there was a blood pressure cuff on her left arm.

She looked up and saw Bucky sitting next to her. "You scared the shit out of me, doll."

Daisy tried to speak, but realized that there was an oxygen mask over her face. It took her a couple of tries to put her hand to the mask to remove it. "What happened?" she rasped.

"The bullet severed a vein in your shoulder," Bucky said. "You lost nearly a liter and a half of blood before we could get you help. You could have died."

Daisy started making connections in her head, recognizing that face from the history photos she had always been so obsessed with. the nose and jawline and eyes were all the same, though the eyes were much more troubled. "You're Bucky Barnes," she said suddenly. Then she spotted the metal arm. It wasn't a dream. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were the same person.

Bucky stiffened. "Yes," he said slowly.

Daisy didn't take her eyes off of his arm. Somehow HYDRA must have gotten a hold of him. They had never found his body in the Alps after he'd fallen from the train. "I'm sorry," she said softly. Bucky stiffened further, prepared to leave, rejected. "I'm sorry they did that to you. I can't… I'm so sorry they did that to you." Bucky stared, frozen. Daisy blushed, looking down at the blankets. Unsure how to explain, even to her soulmate, that she knew a thing or two about finding out you'd been made into a weapon for evil.

She winced as she scooted to the side in her bed, but continued to do so until there was room for Bucky. His eyebrows went up to his hairline when she patted the space beside her. He sat down cautiously, then lay on his side, putting her oxygen mask back on her. Her soul sang louder as the distance between them closed until her nose was pressed up against his chest.

"Rest, doll," Bucky said as he stroked her hair. "We'll discuss the 'coming back from the dead' thing later."

Someone came in and injected something into her IV. She felt Bucky sit up a little and watch them. She knew her soulmate would watch out for her. She fell asleep again, somehow having faith that Bucky would never leave her alone.


End file.
